


The Last Chapter.

by sodakooh



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Injuries, Prompt Fill, anyway heaven and hell suck, i like to imagine some parts of these are narrated by god, i mean..., just AN G S T, let zira and crowley live queer happy human lives!, no beta we die like men, sometimes i wrote things and thought of it being read in God's voice lmao, the comfort is minimal before it goes downhill again lemme tell you, this is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sodakooh/pseuds/sodakooh
Summary: Before and after every departure, Crowley would give Aziraphale a kiss. It was like a secret promise between the two of them; the promise that he’d always return no matter what, just like he’d done for the past 60 centuries.Of course, both of them had been too afraid of losing each other to kiss before a few years ago, but that was another story. This story isn’t much of a story at all, but rather the last chapter from the Book of A. Z. Fell and A. J. Crowley.





	The Last Chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> listen i know i tend to exaggerate things a lot but i actually cried while writing this. like... deadass. 
> 
> anyway, prompts fill! based on, "Do you think this is easy for me?"
> 
> prepare to die

Everything had changed after the Apocalypse-that-didn’t-happen. 

Crowley and Aziraphale had more time to focus on the world around them and on each other, now that they didn’t have to worry about their sides breathing down their necks. In fact, they had so much time for each other that Crowley found himself spending more and more time at the bookshop despite not particularly enjoying books at all. He found himself enjoying Aziraphale’s company more and more, along with his spark, the shimmer in his eyes, and  _ especially _ the way his lips were always so warm against his.

Crowley only left the bookshop every now and then to water (and to a lesser degree, terrorize) his plants in his flat. Before and after every departure, he’d give Aziraphale a kiss. It was like a secret promise between the two of them; the promise that he’d always return no matter what, just like he’d done for the past 60 centuries.

Of course, both of them had been too afraid of losing each other to kiss before a few years ago, but that was another story. This story isn’t much of a story at all, but rather the last chapter from the Book of A. Z. Fell and A. J. Crowley. 

  
  
  


Crowley had left the bookstore that humid morning just like he’d done many times. Aziraphale had promised he’d have a cup of tea ready for the both of them for when he came back: the finest earl grey in all of the UK with just a touch of milk--just like how Crowley enjoyed it.

That return came 3 years, 9 months, and 11 days later.

Aziraphale had spent all that time worrying. It was the longest they’d ever been apart since they prevented the Apocalypse. The angel had filled up Crowley’s answering machine with messages asking for him to return home, and also used a few miracles to pop into his flat and water his plants for his return.

Aziraphale hoped Crowley had just gotten distracted and went off to find something in the world. He’d pulled a few surprises like that, and usually came back with something for Aziraphale--in fact, that was how Aziraphale got the earl grey he’d meant to give to Crowley. The brewed cup has stayed in the cup for a week before he thought he should dump it out.

That very same cup was placed neatly in his lap as he sat on the bed in his room. Aziraphale sipped it gingerly, mentally running through all the things he had to do the next day and pointedly ignoring the calendar on which he kept track of how many days Crowley’s been gone.

That is, until a very loud thud came from downstairs in the bookstore.

Aziraphale almost spilled his tea in his haste to put it down. Was someone breaking in? He was sure he locked up before heading upstairs! He decided to creep down the stairs and around floorboards he knew creaked, trying to find the source of weak coughing and cursing.

Wait, cursing?

Aziraphale poked his head out from behind one of the shelves, jaw dropping to the floor as he saw who was kneeled in the centre of the room.

“Crowley…” he whispered, nearly knocking the entire shelf over in his haste to get to his lover. Said demon was covered nearly head to toe in cuts, bruises, and a particularly nasty gash in his cheek. Black wings thumped against the floor uselessly behind him, and Aziraphale’s heart sank as he saw the state of them.

Many feathers had been torn out in clumps, and it seemed like the bone had broken towards the end of his left. The wings shuddered and twitched along with its owner, who seemed as pale as a ghost.

“My darling… oh, no, what happened to you?” Aziraphale murmured, his hands hovering over Crowley’s shoulders as though he didn’t know what to heal first.

Crowley had finally lifted his head up, blinking blearily at Aziraphale before recognition seemed to fill the yellow eyes. “Angel…” he barely got out before collapsing right into Aziraphale’s chest.

Aziraphale felt his heart split in two. “It’s alright, my dear. I’ve got you. You’re going to be just fine,” he whispered, one hand holding onto Crowley while the other miracled away the other’s injuries. The damage was extensive and did sap away much of Aziraphale’s energy, but once it had been done Aziraphale felt better. Crowley didn’t seem to be in as much pain anymore.

“Crowley? Crowley, can you hear me?” Aziraphale asked in a soft tone, not wanting to startle Crowley what with him being tucked right under his chin.

“Mm…” he hummed quietly, eyelashes fluttering against Aziraphale’s neck as Crowley opened his eyes. There were a few peaceful beats before something seemed to snap in Crowley and he flung himself backwards, out of Aziraphale’s embrace.

“It’s--it’s alright, Crowley. You’re safe. You’re in the bookshop,” Aziraphale tried to tell him, but Crowley didn’t seem to be listening. He stumbled to his feet, wobbling significantly as he looked around the bookshop.

“Is there anyone else here?” Crowley suddenly asked, some sort of mix between fear and white rage in the expression he wore. 

Aziraphale shook his head. “No! No, it’s just us. The shop’s closed for the night.”

“I mean celestial! Angels, demons, that type!”

The angel shook his head again.

The answer seemed to satisfy Crowley, and he stumbled back towards Aziraphale. He still kept his distance and if anything, seemed more uncomfortable looking at the angel.

“What happened to you, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, hesitant with his words. He didn’t want to upset Crowley any further by asking him to explain his situation in case it brought back any other horrors.

Crowly shook his head, his lip curling into a bit of a snarl. He miracled some new glasses and slipped them on, which was strange since he’d stopped wearing them as often around the angel. “When I went to go back to my apartment, I was… taken again. Wasn’t just the angels this time,” he began explaining, slits in his eyes constricting slightly. “The people on my side were there too. Made sure I had a bad time.”

Aziraphale shook his head in horror. “What did they want from you?”

Despite the glasses being on and despite being a creature of love and joy, Aziraphale could practically feel the hesitation and fear. Yes, he’d just told himself that perhaps he shouldn’t push anything but if it was  _ this _ distressing, maybe Aziraphale could help!

When Crowley continued to stay silent, Aziraphale insisted a little more. “Crowley, what did they want from you?”

There was a brief moment--maybe it was brief, and maybe it stretched on for another 3 years--where Crowley seemed like he was going to stay silent; he looked on the brink of simply miracling himself away and avoiding the conversation altogether, and frankly, Aziraphale didn’t think his heart could handle it.

Thankfully, Crowley opened his mouth once more.

“They want us to stop… fraternizing.”

Aziraphale nearly laughed. “Fraternizing?  _ Fraternizing? _ ”

“We have to both go back to our own sides. We have to leave earth and just be and angel and a demon, like we were meant to.”

Aziraphale frowned deeply. “Are… are you hearing yourself? You really call all these years of us being together  _ fraternizing?” _

“Wh--look, the point is, we can’t do this anymore! We have to go to our own sides,  _ now. _ There can’t be… anymore of this,” Crowley said, making some sort of vague gesture between them.

Aziraphale was positively both confused and upset. Crowley  _ leaves him _ for years, then shows up announcing that they not only have to break up but stop talking altogether? He couldn’t even imagine a life in which he didn’t speak to Crowley. It wasn’t a life he wanted to live.

“Weren’t you the one who insisted we were on our own side all those years ago?” Aziraphale began, shifting closer to Crowley with a desperate look in his eyes. “No heaven or hell… just us, right?”

Aziraphale had managed to place his hands on top of Crowley’s and he’d thought he’d won, however Crowley pulled his hands away quickly. “I was an idiot, and you are too for believing we could ever really escape what we are, what we were created for.”

Something about the tone of voice, how thick with hatred and disgust it was, broke Aziraphale. He began to tear up, his throat getting dangerously tight. He really didn’t have much need for air but by being amongst humans for so long, they had both developed strange mannerisms. 

Aziraphale took a shaky inhale. “Why are you doing this? I thought… I thought we were special! I thought we were on our own,  _ together! _ We’re on our own side, just like you--”

“That was before they threatened to have you killed, Aziraphale!” Crowley suddenly snapped, canines having become sharper in his outburst. Aziraphale had never been on the receiving end of that aggression, and truthfully, he didn’t think Crowley meant to if the way he reacted to his own anger was any indication. He placed a hand over his mouth loosely, running his forked tongue over the sharp edges of his teeth in horror. 

“Crowley--” Aziraphale tried again, wanting to try and reach out, wrap his arms and simply kiss all the pain away, but the demon cut him off again.

“They’re going to kill you if we keep talking to each other--and before you say it, we can’t get out of this one too. It… It won’t be as easy as swapping bodies now that heaven and hell are  _ both _ teamed up, Angel.”

The angel was speechless. All these 6000 years, it was  _ Crowley _ who suggested things. He’d been adamant on them stopping their work for “good and evil” since they’d been cancelling each other out. He’d been the one who talked to Aziraphale about his trauma and experience with falling, all because he asked  _ questions. _

Now he was so quick to leave and go back to being some mindless servant without batting an eye?

Aziraphale scoffed, shaking his head. He felt heartbroken and unbearably alone despite Crowley being right in front of him. He felt grief for what he was about to lose: everything.

“I can’t believe you,” Aziraphale muttered under his breath, emotions clashing inside him. “I can’t believe you’re so willing to become just another face amongst the  _ millions _ \--so willing to leave everything we’ve done together! How could you, Crowley?!”

Suddenly, a force knocked Aziraphale from his kneeling position and onto his back. Crowley was on top of him, gripping his shirt and pinning him to the ground. It wasn’t the impact that knocked the metaphorical wind from Aziraphale’s metaphorical lungs, but rather the pure  _ venom _ and  _ betrayal _ that coated his words.

“You think this was easy?!” he snapped, eyes wide with fury but also, if Aziraphale looked hard enough through the glasses, he could see unshed tears. “What do you think I was doing up there for those years? Having tea time with Gabriel and Beelzebub? Baking goodies with the demons?!

“I spent every  _ waking moment _ defying them! I did everything I bloody could to stop them! I took every single beating, every torment and punishment, endured every single mind game because I didn’t want to go back to being alone--and you have the  _ nerve _ to accuse me of that?!”

During the screaming, Crowley’s glasses had begun to slip off his nose. He hadn’t made an attempt to push them back up to conceal his eyes, and some sick and selfish part of Aziraphale wished he had. What had been revealed was the scales around Crowley’s eyes had become more prominent, glossy due to the tears now making their way down his cheeks.

“You really don’t think I want to continue living down here with you?!” Crowley continued, making no move to wipe his face or let go of Aziraphale. “You don’t think I want to stay here and drink tea with you and--and listen to you read to me late in the evening until we grow old and grey?”

Aziraphale almost pointed out that it was impossible for them to turn old and grey. He almost mentioned that their age didn’t affect their appearance and never would, but perhaps that was the point. The thought brought a wave of guilt-driven nausea wracking his body.

“I don’t want to leave, Aziraphale. I also don’t want you to die. I… I couldn’t live with myself,” Crowley sniffled, suddenly becoming a sobbing, babbling mess as the reality of the situation seemingly hit him. “I can’t lose you! I can’t, I--I can’t, I can’t…”

Crowley’s grip on Aziraphale’s jacket loosened slightly. His entire body trembled, and Crowley seemed like he was holding it together by a frail thread. Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek, and the dam inside of the demon snapped open.

He sobbed,  _ loud.  _ He sobbed and sobbed into Aziraphale’s chest while Aziraphale stroked his hair and massaged his scalp. The angel had been crying, too, but made more of an attempt at keeping quiet; he needed to focus on Crowley, and not the building guilt that threatened to make him explode.

“Let it out, my dear,” Aziraphale forced out in the most soothing voice he could muster. It wasn’t very steady, admittedly; he was crying just as much as Crowley was. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. You don’t have to keep up appearances around me.”

And that’s where they stayed, crying with each other, mourning what they hadn’t yet lost.

Crowley had been the one to move first. He pulled himself away from Aziraphale’s chest, brows furrowed deeply and glasses long since discarded. His skin had become red and eyes puffy, and he never once looked away from Aziraphale’s face.

“They gave me a time limit.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No… Please don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, my angel. I don’t know what they’re gonna do to me once I get there--might very well be a nice swim in some holy water.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Aziraphale pleaded, placing a hand on Crowley’s cheek. He leaned into the touch and kept studying Aziraphale’s face.

“I have to go.”

“Crowley, please--”

“I don’t want to, either.”

“Maybe there’s… there’s some other alternative!”

“There isn’t.”

“We haven’t tried anything yet! Maybe if we find Ad--”

Aziraphale’s sentence was cut short as a pair of chapped lips were pressed against his. The kiss tasted like pure love and sadness, and it sent a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. This wasn’t like any kiss they’d shared before.

This time, he knew that when they pulled away, everything would be over.

“I love you, Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered, flashing the saddest smile he’d ever seen the demon wear.

“I love you too, Crowley.”

And in the blink of an eye, the warmth that had been surrounding Aziraphale had been stripped right from his hands. The last page had been written, and the book of the star-crossed lovers came to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> :) ouch


End file.
